


Undressed In Your Evening Best

by GallifreyanAtHearts



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, The Academy Is...
Genre: Crossdressing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 09:09:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2062332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GallifreyanAtHearts/pseuds/GallifreyanAtHearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blue is a good color on him, he notes, especially the bright sky blue shade that he is wearing.  It stands cheerfully colorful against the pale skin backdrop of his belly and thighs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undressed In Your Evening Best

**Author's Note:**

> I can't blame anyone else for this one. It goes out to Tara anyways.  
> Wrote it a couple months back and finally got around to editing. Thanks to Eliana (nagatha_christie) for the help with that, and as always, for being my sounding board, my cheerleader, and my bestie.

Blue is a good color on him, he notes, especially the bright sky blue shade that he is wearing.  It stands cheerfully colorful against the pale skin backdrop of his belly and thighs.  The tan he acquired last summer has all but faded, and it’s not like his thighs get that much sun anyway.  It doesn’t bother him at this moment as he examines himself closely in the mirror.

It is almost stupid how it started.  It was a poorly made porno, so much so that it should not have even been hot.  And it wouldn’t have been, if it hadn’t been for that one actor, who was too gorgeous for the movie, and that stupid fucking pair of panties that the other, less attractive actor had all but ripped off of him.  It went downhill from there, to where he is now.

His breathing is shaky as he stares at his reflection.  The blue cotton stretches over his hipbones, the front bulging over his cock.  The waistband is trimmed with a thin white ribbon and a tiny bow.  The material curves around his thigh attractively, unlike any underwear he has ever worn.  He’s hard, more turned on than he’d like to admit.  His eyes flick up to look at the bedroom door behind him in the mirror.  He knows he has a while before Gabe is due home, but can’t help worrying.

He turns sideways and examines himself.  From this angle, the panties accentuate how skinny he is, the bulge of his cock is emphasized, and the panties almost create the illusion of his having an ass.  He turns again, his back now to the mirror, and looks over his shoulder.  The illusion is gone.

He turns to face the mirror again, taking a step closer, mesmerized by his reflection.  He knows that he looks feminine at the best of times, plays it up with long hair and pants that emphasize his hips, but this is different.  It is almost as if the panties change his features, but they don’t, they change the way he _views_ his features.  They highlight the feminine aspects of his figure, but panties and femininity go hand in hand, he thinks, and because of this, the masculine aspects of his body are brought forward by contrast.

Especially his cock, pushing at and stretching the cotton, which is soft but not elastic, and the feeling of the material reluctantly reshaping itself around him is wonderful, the little white bow perched on top, like the panties are the wrapping on an erotic gift to himself.  It is clear that this is not what the panties were intended for, and yet they look and feel as if they were made for him.

He looks down, at his body rather than his reflection.  From above, he can see clearly where a tiny stretch of the waistband lifts away from his skin, pushed by his cock, just where the bow is.  He looks at the flat expanse of his belly, the angles of his hips, the way they are caressed by blue cotton.  His hair falls in his face and he looks back up at the mirror.

He reaches out to touch his reflection without thinking, stroking the cool glass where it depicts the skin of his belly, just above the waistband of the panties, his fingertips meeting their reflected selves.  He glances down again and then back at the mirror.  His hand moves, almost of its own accord, from the glass down to his cock.

He just barely touches himself through the material, probing experimentally, gently stroking himself with his fingertips, all the time watching in the mirror.  His fingers are cool from the glass and he almost gasps when the panties provide no barrier from the sensation, indeed seem to enhance it.

He stares, wide-eyed, at his reflection, as he moves to press his hand against his cock.  He moans a little; the pressure and motion of his hand shifts the material so that the head of his cock pokes out of the waistband, pinned against his belly by the tightness of the panties and skewing just sideways of the bow.  It somehow makes the whole picture even more erotic; as if he has finally opened the pretty wrapping of the gift.  He continues to touch himself through the panties, though; experimenting with pressure and motion.  He cups his balls experimentally and moans; he begins to gently massage with his fingertips, the cotton sliding against his skin.  His eyes close for a second as he whimpers, but they flash open at the sound of the door being opened.

In the mirror he stares as the door opens, half mortified and half too turned on to care, and Gabe steps in and he closes his eyes so he doesn’t see Gabe’s reaction.  He expects a comment, but hears none, only Gabe’s footsteps.  He thinks that Gabe has spared him the embarrassment and walked out of the room, but then he feels Gabe behind him, Gabe’s breath on his neck, Gabe’s arms winding around his waist.

“You should’ve told me.”  Gabe murmurs into his ear, pausing to nibble his earlobe.  One of Gabe’s hands splays on his belly, pressing him back against Gabe’s body; the other meets his own on his cock.  He remains still, and Gabe moves his hand out of the way so that Gabe can start gently touching his cock through the panties.  He opens his eyes, looks at Gabe behind him in the mirror, then his eyes travel down their joint reflection at his cock, watches Gabe touch him, remaining silent, but breathing hard.

“That’s a good color on you.”  Gabe says.

“I know.”  He replies with a gasp.

“It’s a good look all together,” Gabe continues.  “It’s pretty hot.  Really hot.”  As if to punctuate his words, he feels Gabe’s cock beginning to get hard against his ass.

“Glad you –” but the rest of his reply is cut off by a moan as Gabe’s hand tightens around the bulge of his cock, Gabe’s thumb brushing over the exposed head.

“I want to see them stained with your cum.”  Gabe says, somewhere between a plea and an instruction.  He just nods and whimpers as Gabe’s finger delve into his panties and wrap fully around his cock, pulling the head back down into the material.  Gabe strokes him mercilessly, jerking him quick and messy.

He watches, mesmerized, in the mirror at Gabe’s hand moving around his cock under the blue cotton, watches his own hips move in tiny, rolling thrusts against Gabe’s hand, watches his legs shake and watches his rapid breaths with his chest rise and fall and his belly push against Gabe’s hand.

Gabe’s hand is hot against his cock, and the way that Gabe strokes him, without any lube, hovers on the cusp of where pleasurable ends and painful begins, and he almost cannot take how good it is.  The soft cotton of the panties also rubs against him, insistent and constant, creating friction wherever Gabe’s hand isn’t.

He comes with a series of whimpers and violent breaths, his chest heaving and his belly quivering.  He watches it all in the mirror, a damp stain spreading across the front of his panties.  Gabe continues to stroke him, more gently now, almost absently, as his breathing shudders back into some sort of rhythm.  Gabe then pulls his hand from his panties and holds his fingers, sticky with his cum, to his mouth.  He obligingly licks Gabe’s fingers clean.  They both watch in the mirror as he does.

“They’re ruined.”  He says when he is done, looking down at his stained panties.

“It’ll come out in the wash.”  Gabe says with a shrug.  “Besides, if they _are_ ruined, we’ll just have to buy you more.”

“We should do that anyway.”  He says.  Gabe hums in agreement as his hands leave William’s body and disappear from their reflection, between their bodies.

He hears the metallic sound of a belt opening, and then a moment later, the unmistakable noise of a zipper and then the rustle of denim.  It is only a moment before he feels Gabe’s cock press hard against his ass, Gabe’s hands grip his hips.

“Gonna get the back too.”  Gabe says.  He can only nod in response, not that is matters because Gabe is rubbing off on his blue cotton covered ass.  It feels good in an indifferent sort of way, pleasant, but not exactly pleasurable, Gabe’s cock hot and hard against him.

Gabe comes surprisingly quickly and he feels the results in the form of hot, sticky dampness on his ass, feels it penetrate the cotton.

“Fuck,” Gabe breathes.

“Yeah.”  He whispers back, still watching Gabe in the mirror.

“There’s a Victoria’s Secret in the mall,” Gabe says, “and I think it’s worth a visit.”

William can only agree.


End file.
